Those Five
by TamoraGregory916
Summary: AU. The point in the five interns lives when they decide to become surgeons or not. In these scenarios they choose not to be.
1. Meredith

-1**Those Five**

TamoraGregory916

_AU. The point in each of the five interns lives where they decided to become a surgeon or not. This time they choose not to. _

Meredith

Meredith ran her fingers through her blonde hair and sighed. She was sitting in front of a lot of paper work. A pile of college applications that came almost up to her waist. She hadn't been expecting the mass of paperwork for her Christmas holiday. In fact she hoping to spend her last Christmas skiing with her high school friends. But today they were on the slopes and she was telling Duke what issues should be at the top of the presidential agenda and why. It was now Christmas Eve and she had wished herself a Merry Christmas a while ago. Her mom was still in surgery. She had negotiated Christmas off, although Meredith had to twist her arm quite a bit, but now she had to go in to do an emergency removal of cerebrospinal fluid that had built up on a patient overnight. She had promised Meredith she would be back for Christmas dinner but it was nearing seven and she still wasn't answering her pager. Meredith looked at window. A tiny sprinkling of snow fell from the sky but most of it was slush.

"A wet, icy Christmas. It's got a ring to it."

After ten thirty she gave up. She shuffled down the stairs in her old sweats and put the prepared meal in the microwave and sat in front of the T.V which was showing Meredith's favourite Christmas movie, A Christmas Story. Even at eighteen Meredith couldn't help but crack up when Ralphie's friend sticks his tongue to the frozen pole. She poured herself some mulled wine, but couldn't bring herself to toast to a happy Christmas and many more. It wasn't her mother's fault that these emergencies happened but she could get someone else to take care of them. But no, Ellis Grey always had to be in on the best surgeries all of the time. The good surgeries, they were her territory. And Meredith had learned to live with it over time, she tried to complain at first. The crying never worked though and eventually, at the age of twelve she gave up and taught herself to cook and run the washing machine. The best Christmas she had ever had was many years ago, she barely remembered it now, of a couple the woman was called Adelle who gave her the most beautiful porcelain doll. The woman, Adelle, she recalled played tea party with her all night. She had no idea where her mother was the whole night.

Lost in her thoughts, Meredith drifted slowly to sleep. Her dreams were filled with her running after a scalpel, covered in blood, and Adelle sipping tea from a china tea cup her mother laughing at the man in the background. The slam of the door jolted Meredith awake. Her mother walked into the living room and glanced at Meredith with a tired look.

"Merry Christmas, Mom."

"Since when do you do holidays?"

Meredith looked down at her empty dinner plate and bit her lip. Now wasn't the time to argue.

"Have you finished your applications, yet? The earlier you send them in the higher you get on the pre-med program. You don't realise how many strings I've had to pull already."

Again, it was how ungrateful Meredith was. Maybe it was the holiday spirit in Meredith, or the crick in her neck from sleeping on the couch but Meredith snapped.

"I haven't filled any of them out."

"Well then you better get upstairs instead of lying in front of the T.V."

"I'm not going to, Mom. At least for now. I'm not going to med school."

Meredith's mother let out a small laugh, probably of disbelief.

"Don't be ridiculous. You're my daughter, you are going to go to medical school."

Meredith stood up and raised herself to her full height. She had been taller than her mother for a while now and used it to her advantage.

"I told you, I'm not going until you apologize."

Ellis now smiled genuinely and said,

"Is this some kind of a joke? What exactly am I apologizing for?"

"For not being there."

The look on Meredith's face could have curdled milk and she stared deep into her mother's eyes, hard and unafraid.

"Alright now Meredith, cut it out, go upstairs. You better a lot more thankful when I help you get into the best med school this country has to offer and put you on one of the best surgical internships a person could ask for."

"All you have to do is apologize."

Tears welled up into Meredith's eyes. It was so single and solitary the word sorry, yet it stood the test of time. It was all she needed, but as she stared into her mother's unwavering eye's she now she was losing the battle.

"I'm going to ask you one more time Meredith, go upstairs and start filling out those damn papers."

"I said no, Mom."

Ellis's face went red and she threw her hands up.

"God damnit!" she screamed and slapped Meredith across the face.

Meredith brought her hand up to her face and touched the stinging cheek.

"Oh," was all she said. Ellis looked at her hand and back up at Meredith again. You could see the gears turning in Dr. Grey's mind. She pivoted towards the kitchen and Meredith went for the stairs and up to her room. She threw open her closet and took out her suitcase. She flinged everything she saw into the suitcase, dry-eyed but blind with fury. She could her mother downstairs beginning to shuffle around the kitchen, probably making her chamomile tea. Not even having a second thought to hitting her only daughter, her only child.

Meredith zipped the suitcase and half ran out of the room. She never wanted to see the house she had spent most of her childhood in for the rest of her life. She stood at the bottom of the steps and looked at the oak door. This was it, there was not turning back. No surgeries, likely no college. She thought, but for only a fleeting moment, to say something to her mother. She shook her head, scolding herself for such a thought. She turned the door handle and stepped out into the freezing cold.

"Meredith, close the door you'll let in the cold."


	2. Christina

**Christina **

Christina walked into the lecture hall with a stash of books in hand. Two empty wide-ruled ring notebook, a pencil case bursting with writing utensils, and a stack of texts made up the med student's pile. She was prepared, she was on track, she was ready for class. She took her usual seat, in the front row in front of the board and tied her jet black curls into a tight ponytail. The other members of the class shuffled in slowly and took to their recluses near the back of the room. Christina scowls at the men who laugh at her as they climb up the stairs.

"Oh no!," she whined sarcastically at one of the taunting boys, "you're gonna make little miss girl surgeon cry."

She gave them the finger and then pouted her lower lip as dramatically as she could. She turned to the front again as the professor walked in. Dr. Marlowe surveyed the room as he shuffled the papers in front of him. There was a gap of two rows between the class and Christina, he raised an eyebrow at the fervent student to which she stared blankly back at.

"Right then, last week we were discussing trauma to the abdomen and the liver. Can anyone tell me the steps taken to opening the abdomen?"

Christina's hand shot up before the question was finished. Marlowe nodded his head towards Yang and the class let out a collective groan. The professor was quick to scold.

"It's called manner class and until you learn some you won't see the inside of an OR until they're wheeling you in for your own surgeries. If it weren't for the standard Miss Yang set, half of you wouldn't even bother to show up."

Feeling liberated from her peers catty remarks Christina proceeded to answer with her textbook perfection.

"Perfect as usual, Yang."

"I know, sir, I mean thank you."

¨ · · ¨

It was going to be another gloomy day. It always seemed to be a gloomy day after she stayed at Marlowe's but she couldn't blame Mother Nature for her affairs. Marlowe lie half in half out of the bed. She threw the duvet back over his sleeping body as she got out and pulled on last night's clothes. Christina never left stuff at his apartment, never. As she made her way to bathroom to quickly wash her face she tripped over a lone shoe. The thud jolted Colin from his light sleep.

"Going already?" he asked, his voice still groggy.

"Yeah, I've got essays."

Dr. Marlowe got up and pulled on his boxers he walked over to Christina and gave her a deep kiss. Trying to keep it brief, she pulled away and said,

"Morning breath."

Colin looked slightly embarrassed pulled away even further and cleared his throat.

"I actually meant to show you some papers I got from a friend at Hopkins the other day."

Leaving Christina to wonder over the 'Hopkins package' Marlowe walked into the kitchen a shuffled through some papers. He brought back in a manila envelope, it looked official. Christina, smart enough to know that every year Marlowe picked someone from the class to go on a work experience to Hopkins Research Institute. Christina was also knew that Hopkins was the number one research lab in the world, when the world came upon the cure for cancer someone from Hopkins would be the one to find it.

Christina sat down on the mahogany chair opposite the bed where Marlowe was now perched. He opened the file slowly, licking his thumb and pointer before flicking through the pages. He went through each one slowly, trying to keep a straight face on.

Christina caught on quickly.

"Not funny! What does it say?"

Fine, fine, fine. My friend Dr. Daniel Silo asked me to recommend a student to send a student to come for work experience. This I thought was perfectly normal, but another note was attached with a form as thick as my thumb."

He held up the thick green wad of papers.

"He also asked me to recommend a student who would, after graduation, come to the Institute and begin work there. I recommended you and he has agreed you would be the perfect candidate for the position."

Christina was ready to laugh and cry. Hopkins wanted her. Hopkins was a research institute, they wanted to find new medicines to cure AIDS and cancer, not surgeries. She would have to go into internal medicine the wimps answer to a doctor.

"Well, what do you think? Oh and forgot to say, they're starting you off on a managerial position. That's a six-figure salary."

"Oh."

Something a surgeon had to be good at was making decisions quickly. If you didn't people died. Christina looked down at her feet for a moment.

"That's wonderful, Colin. I'm honoured, of course I'll go."

The last decision she would make as a surgeon.


	3. Izzie

**Izzie**

_Thanks for everyone's feedback, keep it coming!_

"Good morning, sweetie."

Whenever Paolo walked into a room, everyone noticed. Izzie opened her eyes from the eye shadow that was going on them and smiled.

"Paolo! Big day, huh?"

Paolo walked over and gave her a kiss on both cheeks and looked at her half done face and blonde hair in rollers.

"You were always meant to be the face of Stylet. You know that right, Isobel?"

Paolo had never called her Izzie. It was their thing, she liked it.

"Well let's see how well the pictures turn out before you make any rash decisions."

Paolo threw his hands up in the air.

"So modest too!"

He turned to the room, the various crew were setting up and the photographer was doing his test shots.

"Is she not perfect?"

The room looked at the meek model, they smiled in agreement. Izzie was the nice model, the one who brought them coffee and muffins in the morning and apologised when she didn't do what she was told. She kept her cell phone to her ear and her demands in reason. She in a bit of a muddle now, a stylist pulling at her blonde tresses and make-up artist finish her eye shadow, and another stylist trying to buckle on a pair of six-inch heels.

"Okay! Okay!" Izzie cried as she laughed trying to get up. Everyone put their finishing touches, as an artist would to a painting and Izzie was able to make her way to the set. The theme for the hair styling products was a classic boudoir scene, one she had seen before. She turned to Paolo.

"Bethany Whispers?"

Paolo smiled like a child who was found with their hand in the cookie jar.

"It's what your known for. And anyway. Your dressed this time and the furniture is much better."

"You diva," Izzie taunted with a hand on her hip.

The director gave her a wry look and she took her place on the chaise lounge. The photographer stepped forward.

"Right then, we're going for sexy meets hairspray."

"Was their ever a holier union?" Izzie asked as she set up her first pose.

As they finished the first role of film a woman walked in through the small side door of the studio. Izzie glanced over for a moment and then turned back to the photographer. People popped in and out of the room all the time. People grabbing coffee and various assistants running out for impossible tasks to complete.

Paolo was sitting in his chair behind the photographer glanced over as well and upon seeing the woman got up and walked over to where she was now and they kissed on both cheeks. Her face looked familiar as Izzie took a better look. Auburn hair highlighted, but by the sun not a bottle. Pale skin too, she was Irish. Her outfit was of impeccable taste as well. A fitted Chloé jacket and wide legged Ralph Lauren trousers. She was someone important too, Paolo didn't just suck up to anyone. They chatted for a moment longer and Paolo made his way back over to the chair. Izzie flicked her gazing eyes before he could see her and twirled into a new position. She was never good at lying.

"You'll find out soon enough," he called to the model whose cheeks were going an interesting shade of scarlet.

Izzie was talking to one of the set designers when Paolo approached her next with the woman. He tapped Izzie on the shoulder and turned to the woman.

"This is Isobel."

The woman took her in, like a buyer surveying a race horse. She met her eyes again and put out her hand. Izzie took it gently, she never liked to be probed.

"This is Gerry Summers. She is the London editor for Mar."

"Oh, Mar, nice to meet you."

Mar was a new publication, but had knocked the fashion world of its feet. It was new and edgy, classic and timeless, they had Vogue running for its money for the past year and a half. New models, the next models they went for Mar.

"I'd love to talk to you over lunch."

Her accent was smooth and rolled into her ears like a soft melody. She could listen to her read the phone book.

"That would be wonderful."

"Perfect. I have reservations booked for one. I'll be downstairs while you change."

Izzie looked taken aback. She stammered over her words.

"Oh,um, of- of course."

She smiled, but one of her big dorky ones and turned and turned to the changing room. Behind her she could hear peals of laughter.

¨ · · ¨

"Oh darling! You can't be serious!?!"

Downtown, and halfway through a duck salad Izzie and Gerry were laughing there heads off and finding themselves fast friends. Gerry put her napkin to her mouth and shook with laughter. She took a sip of her water and calmed down.

"You're too much. We must get to business though."

"Business. I thought you took me out to lunch for a giggle."

Gerry smiled.

"Well hopefully we'll be able to do this again. Mer is starting up their own modelling agency. We're hoping to get some big names. We've already got Christa Woods signed and well to be honest, we want you."

Izzie stared blankly back at the fashion editor.

"You want to sign me? But modelling has just been something to get me throu-."

"I know, med school. But you don't realize how big this is. Mer is going to top the agency list as soon as we open. Ford and Elite are the behind the times. Isobel, this could make you into the next Gisele."

Izzie looked down at her empty plate. She looked back up at Gerry. She was staring Izzie, her eyes were earnest and they were filled with hoping. She really wanted this to happen.

"I need to think. I'm sorry."

Izzie threw her napkin on the table and took a twenty out of her purse. She walked out of the restaurant and put her hand up for a cab. Her hand waved frantically and thoughts rushed through her head. A model or a surgeon. What kind of choice is that? Seriously.

Gerry came up behind her quietly.

"Izzie you know you want this otherwise you wouldn't be so scared."

Izzie couldn't bring herself to look at Gerry.

"I want this?"

"You have to, that's the only way you're going to make it. This cab could go one of two places. You going home or the both of us going to my office, to sign some papers. Izzie flexed her fingers and opened the door of the cab. She got in and looked up at Gerry.

"Are you coming?"


	4. Alex

**Alex**

"Come on, Joey! Harder, harder!" Alex yelled at his friend as Joey tried to put his opponent in a leg lock.

"Keep it up!"

He could see Joey's eyes screw up into little balls and his face went scarlet, the look on the others guy's face was priceless. The referee called three and the match was over. Alex applauded and patted his buddy on the back as he came out of the ring.

"Good job, man."

The sweaty wrestler smiled back at his friend.

"Thanks, Alex."

They walked over to the changing rooms and pushed the large door open. Inside a bunch of men were showering or getting ready to go out. One guy sat in the corner with a bloody nose and a broken arm. They shook their heads as they passed him, neither had seen a beating like that in a long time. Alex came up to his locker and swung it open, pulled out his clothes, and sat down on the bench.

"So what are you doing tonight anyway?"

Joey peeled off his top and said,

"I was thinking about going to the Alpha Kappa party later, you want to check it out?"

"I got to stay behind tonight. Extra practice."

Joey rolled his eyes at Alex and asked,

"So you really are a robot, then?"

Alex laughed and gave his friend a playful shove into the side lockers.

"You know if you want to make pro you got to practice."

"What you do and a normal person's practice are two completely different things."

Alex lied on the bench and lifted himself for some crunches, in between sets he answered Joey.

"You know that gala next week could get recognized by a scout. Who knows what could happen after that."

"Ah-ha so it has a motive. But haven't you forgotten about that one small hiccup in your plan, the fact you're a pre-med."

Alex kept at his crunches, trying to focus on his breathing.

"You can't ignore me forever, or your so called medical career."

Joey shook his head and shut the locker. He walked down the line of lockers and turned out of the door. Alex heard the swoosh of the door as it closed quietly. It was now Alex time. Time to condition, time to practice, time to visualize. He had a gala to trump in six days. First, stretches then cardio then resistance then more cardio, this time usually the treadmill with a sixty degree incline. He would have ran outside, it what he preferred but the problem with Iowa was it happened to be a very flat state.

He got up from the last ten crunches and put his leg up in front of his face and started his stretches.

¨ · · ¨

The atmosphere was tense. It was always better that way. Alex readjusted his duffel bag on his shoulder and walked towards the main ring. Gateway Arena was a huge stadium, the biggest he had ever wrestled in possibly. He had been initially placed in two matches. If he won both or one of them he could me on to the semi-finals which were the following week. The scouts were out on the prowl now though. They looked for potential more than deliverance. Teams had to mould their wrestlers, make them a part of the team but they had to have the basics down pat.

Alex spotted a few opponents he had taken on before, but not his first challenger of the day. He headed to the changing room and set up in a secluded corner. A burly man walked and came up towards Alex. He pulled up his shorts and said sarcastically,

"The shows later tonight."

The joke flew over the man's head, or he chose to ignore it, he instead handed Alex a notice with his name highlighted.

"Your first opponent broke his leg last week at a division match. Therefore he forfeits. Your guaranteed a place in the semi-finals. Congratulations."

"Mmm," was all that Alex said in return.

"Something wrong?" the man asked.

"It's not nearly as fun winning when you don't do anything."

The man silently sniggered.

"Don't worry, you'll be working hard enough. We've changed around your second match. Your now up against Lloyd Davis."

"Lloyd Davis? You've got to be kidding me, he wasn't even on the table."

The man turned and began walking away, he paused on his heel to add,

"We've made an acceptation." And he left the wrestler with the notice in his hands.

Lloyd Davis had been at the top of the tables since he was twelve. Down on the mat with him, is supposed to be like taking on a brick wall. There was no getting on him and there was no getting up once he had you pinned.

"Well looks like I will have to do some work today."

Twenty minutes he heard his named called on the intercom. He was already at the side of the mat, watching the others wrestlers. It was good to see the enemy, no not the enemy, just the competition. Lloyd came out from a side door and walked up to the other side of the ring. His coach and a trainer was behind him. Alex's coach was on the phone in the lobby figuring out why the team's hotel reservations had been booked for the following Tuesday.

"Great support," he thought as he stepped onto the blue mat. Lloyd was doing some quick stretches, mainly superficial and a chance to flex for the crowd. This guy was impressive though. The singlet he wore was stretched to the max, his biceps were huge and his thighs were as large as both of Alex's put together. This guy would have looked better in the WWF.

The referee took his place in the middle of the mat and called the two men forward. Alex stood almost as tall as Lloyd, but his presence seemed to make Alex about two feet tall. The two absently listened to the referee's commentary. They stared each other in the eyes trying to test one another before the match started. They heard the bell and they backed into their respective corners.

The bell sounded again and Lloyd took no time in coming towards Alex and kneeling to take his legs. Alex was instinctive and backed up and tried to wrap himself around Davis's back. The bulk of it was too big and he couldn't take and he ended up stumbling over Lloyd's shoulder. He managed to roll back into a standing position before Davis could turn on him. He was taking this to quickly, calm down he breathed deeply. He saw Lloyd duck again and this time Alex returned the grab. They both fell to the ground. Lloyd's grip was crushing, but so was Alex's and his smaller arms were much effective for grabbing underneath the giant's armpits and squeezing his lungs. Both short of breath they lessened their grasp and managed to both roll away from each other. Alex got his feet quickly, before his opponent could so he ran through his potential moves. He knew Lloyd could go at this for hours so he was going to have to do something big. A light bulb went off in his head and he got back into fighting mode as Lloyd rose to his feet and spread his broad arms. Alex backed up and far as he could and began to rush towards the wrestler, when he was about a meter away from his feet he came down on his knee and laid his back flat. He was effectively flipping Davis over his back and then be able to pin him.

But Davis was too big and spread his legs as he saw Alex lower himself. Alex fell flat on his face, and the firm grip of an arm lock saw to the end of the match. Alex got up and didn't bother to shake Davis's outstretched hand. He grabbed his towel from the side of the ring and stepped out towards the changing rooms. Tonight would require some hard drinking. A small tap on the shoulder came at the entrance of the locker room door. He pivoted quickly and saw a small, white haired man, who was wearing a blazer and holding a clipboard. He was a scout.

"Alex Karev?"

"Yeah." Alex wasn't in the mood to be tossed around.

"I'm Steven Collins, I'm with the Olympic wrestling team."

Alex kept his mind shut and his thoughts blank. He couldn't hope, it never worked.

"What are you doing this Thursday?"

"Nothing, sir."

The Collins shook his head.

"That's not true. You'll be in New York. I want to put you on the Olympic squad. Stamina and stability like that is exactly what we need on our team."

Alex rocked on his heels, its what he did to keep from screaming and crying and throwing the small man in the air and dancing.

"That sounds like a good plan."

"Good, I'm glad it does, here's my card. I'll call you with your flight details."

A good day's work, Alex thought.


	5. George

**George**

The cold woke George up once again at the crack of dawn. It was February now, he had gotten used to it, it had started in November. He had never been an earlier riser before, in fact he usually had been the last one to get up in his family, but being the first one up had its benefits.

He shuffled down the stairs and walked into the kitchen. He looked out of window, the sun was shining but the grass was frosted and the trees before him were bare. He flicked on the coffee pot and poured in some water. Careful to not to step on any of the squeaky boards, he made his way to the doorway. George pulled on his slippers, the red ones which came to the top of his calf and slid the screen door open. The March cold bit him and he hurried to the end of the drive where the paper was waiting at the end of the drive. He shook of some of the frost from the blue plastic covering and scampered back inside. He slid the door behind him shut and walked back to his coffee, now spreading its aromatic waft all over the house bubbling in the pot.

"Georgie, are you up already?" a voice floated from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, Mom. You want some coffee?"

"Yes please, darling."

He heard the feet shuffle back to the bedroom and the door shut. He smiled to himself, she wouldn't be out of bed for at least another hour or so. He opened the cupboard and took out a mug, poured himself some caffeine and sat down with the paper.

"Come on, Ronnie!" George yelled up the stairs. Even though Ronnie had sworn he was going to live in his car he wanted to drive it so much, he always seemed to be late for school every morning since getting his license.

"RONNIE!" Jerry screamed.

A blurry eyed Ronnie descended the stairs, half bounding half leaping and turned to his two brothers.

"Would you two just shut up!"

"You're the one with the license, doofus," George whined to his older brother.

Ronnie came up behind him and whacked his around the head.

"Ow!" George cried and followed hurriedly after his brothers who were making their way to the car.

¨ · · ¨

"Ma! We're home!" Jerry called as he rushed in through the front door. Louise sat at the kitchen table sipping at a cup of tea and flipping through a magazine.

Without looking up from her article on the dangers of flu vaccines she asked,

"Where's George?"

Ronnie walked in through the kitchen door and gave his brother a wild-eyed look.

"Boys, where is he?"

"On his way home."

Mrs. O'Malley paused and picked up her mug of tea and took a sip. The steam rose off of it and curled into the air.

"And why didn't he come home with you two?"

"Well, he was-"

"Why?"

"Because we kicked him out of the car."

Louise raised her eyebrows at the two boys and shook her head.

"Your father will be hearing about this when he gets home," she paused for a moment trying to keep her face straight, "tonight."

The boys face went from remorseful to delighted so quickly it would have been hard to tell if they had be sorry.

"Dad's home tonight, awesome!"

They each gave their mother a kiss and ran up the stairs to their rooms. Probably fishing out the football for some tosses when Harold came later that night.

George arrived home an hour and a half later frozen to the tip.

"Hey Rudolph," said the brothers as they greeted their slightly frostbitten brother.

George shot them a dirty look and walked upstairs to his room where he dropped his backpack, stuffed with texts and fell onto the bed and climb under the thick woollen covers. He lie there for almost an hour before he heard the screen door open and a round of muffled cheers from downstairs.

"Does anyone tell me anything in this family?" George moaned to the ceiling.

He walked down the stairs again and saw his father giving his mother a large hug and kiss. Jerry was in the kitchen grabbing his father a cold Bud.

"Georgie!" exclaimed Mr. O'Malley as he held his arms wide open for his little boy.

"Hey, Dad," said George as he embraced his father. Whenever Harold got back from one of his cross-country truck deliveries it was always a call for celebration. When the boys were smaller they were allowed to stay up late and Dad coming home had always been a big special privilege.

"How about some tosses with the ol' pig skin, Dad?" asked Ronnie.

"Oh, let your father catch his breath," scolded the mother brushing the dust off of his jacket. Harold laughed and said,

"You set that up boys I'll be out in a sec. How bout you Georgie. You wanna play?"

George smiled earnestly and shook his head.

"Maybe later, Dad."

Harold's smile faded a little, and he turned back to his wife who was sat on the sofa. George went to the kitchen and turned the kettle on again for some tea. He saw his brothers setting up for the football.

"Lou, there wasn't as much as I thought there was gonna be this time."

George turned his head to face the living room with a puzzled look on his face.

"It's okay. How much was it?"

Money problems? They had never been Vanderbilt's, but this money trouble never seemed to have been a problem for the family.

"One thousand."

"Oh."

To eighteen-year-old George this sounded like a pretty large sum of cash but evidently this was not so.

"Well we've always got what's saved away."

"Not if we want to keep paying the mortgage," sighed Mr. O'Malley.

Then George heard what he thought was a small sob from his mother.

"How am I going to tell my boy that we don't have enough to go to med school."

George walked to the doorway and saw his mother crying softly into his father's shoulder. He looked away, he never could see stand to see his own mom cry. He turned back to the kitchen. This was all his fault. Again. He was always the burden, extra science lessons, how much had the trip cost to look at college?

George pounded his fist on the kitchen table. He wouldn't be the one to screw up the O'Malley's. He couldn't be that burden.

He poured the boiling water slowly into the tea cup and stir in the sugar. He walked calmly back to the kitchen doorway, took a deep breath, and walked on into the living room.

"Mom, Dad?"

The two looked up at their son, a slightly dazed look on their faces. His mother smiled and accepted the tea gratefully that George offered her.

"There's something that I've been meaning to tell you."

His mother tried to act non-chalant and asked,

"Have you picked a college, sweetie? You've still got time you know!"

"Well yeah, sort of. I've decided I want to go into Trade school, like Ronnie and Jerry. They're were talking about opening up a garage when they graduate. I'd love to be a part of that."

The two parents looked shocked. His father blinked a few times and stammered,

"But what about being a doctor, Georgie? That's what you want isn't it?"

"I thought it was Dad, but I realized that being good with my hands can be useful for other things than just opening up bodies."

"Oh." was all his mother could reply with.

George's father stood up and walked up next to George, who had also risen to his feet. He looked George in the eye for a moment and then hugged him.

"If this is what you want, then of course."

George hugged his father back and tried to hold back the tears that were welling the corners of his eyes.

_Thanks so much to everyone who's been reading and, hopefully, enjoying. _

_I'm considering writing either a sequel with what would happen as the interns continued in their new lives or trying out the same idea out with the resident's and attending (Bailey is going to be hard to keep away from the field of medicine!)_

_We'll see, until then!_

_TG916 (Maddie)_


End file.
